All That's Lost
by girlNmaroon
Summary: “I miss him,” she says simply. He kisses her cheek, pulling her into a tight embrace. “Me, too.”
1. Chapter 1

**I'm back again, with yet another fic! This one is a little different than anything I've written so far, but I hope you'll enjoy it. **

**Thanks to Oz for the beta, and to Kait, Heather, and Emma for being so supportive of my idea.**

* * *

She exits the bathroom, her wet brown hair dripping onto the carpet. He spies her from his prone position on the couch, and sees that she's been crying. Again. Elliot sighs without thinking, and all too quickly realizes his mistake. She stomps across the room towards him, dressed in her short robe with the pockets full of Kleenex, a reminder of all they have lost.

_I used to love that robe_, he thinks. _The way it would never stay closed, as if even the soft checkered fabric understood her body was too beautiful to be covered up..._ She stops a yard away from him, halting in mid-step.

"Look, I'm sorry if I'm not handling this the way you think I should. I'm sorry if you think I should be stronger, get past this, stop crying. I'm sorry I can't behave like a cop in this situation, but dammit!" Her voice breaks on the curse, the next words coming out as a whisper. "You're supposed to understand."

"I don't know what to do, either, 'Livia," he says. "Jesus, baby—" He stops cold after uttering the term of endearment, the pet name she used to secretly enjoy but now starts a fight.

"What did you say?" she seethes.

"Honey, I'm sorry."

"What. Did. You. Say."

"Olivia, you know that's not what I was referring to."

"I know I'm a failure, Elliot. I know I can't give you five perfect children, hell, I can't even give you one! But you don't have to constantly remind me of that fact." Her face is stone-cold, her arms crossed tightly across her chest.

"Kathy was a lot younger…" He stops talking when he realizes he just put his foot in his mouth. He knows he has to get his hands on her, settle her down before she explodes, but she is pacing the room now, her eyes angry and betrayed.

"Liv, I didn't mean to say that." He follows her path across the rug, and when she spins around to retrace her steps he is there, and he wraps his arms around her as tightly as he can. "You've got to know that's not what I meant to say."

She fights him for a second, more startled at this tactic than upset. She relaxes, her arms uncrossing to wrap around him, grabbing fistfuls of his sweatshirt. They hold tight to one another, fighting the gap this situation has forced between them.

Both murmur apologies, both feeling responsible for a situation so far out of their hands. They make promises they can't keep, knowing this may never get better, knowing the love they share might not be enough this time.

He watches the clock for just over fourteen minutes before he feels her sag against him, her breathing even. He bends down, grabbing her behind the knees and lifting her into his arms. He carries her to their bed, tucks her under their sheets, and crosses the room. He sits on the armchair they've made love on so many times, and begins his vigil.

--

She wakes up with tears in her eyes, as she has every day since she lost him. She thinks it was a 'him.' He felt like a 'him.'

The early morning sunrise burns her reddened eyes, and she closes them, the tears she'd held back now cascading down her face. She doesn't bother to wipe them away, instead letting their tracks mingle with all of those that have come before.

It's after she shuts her eyes she realizes what she saw. Her husband, propped up in their striped chair, fully awake. She knows he's worried about her, but she doesn't remember how to worry about him.

"Elliot." Her voice is quiet, scratchy, but she knows he hears her. She reaches her hand out to him, her palm uncurling in invitation. "Come to bed."

Olivia doesn't bother to open her eyes. She knows every inch of his body, this room. He slowly rises from the seat, traipsing across the carpet. He grabs her hand as he settles, but that is all that touches. He doesn't pull her to him, nor does he cross the invisible middle line. He just holds her hand, closes his eyes, and gives in to rest.

--

He opens his eyes, the bright light of midday filtering through their blinds. They never have gotten around to buying curtains. They never make the time for themselves.

Elliot wants to touch her, to kiss her all over, to tuck himself into her strength and cry for all that's lost, for all that may never be found again. He shakes his head, knocking that idea right out of his thoughts. He won't fail her now. She needs him and he won't let her down.

It's cold outside now, but she still gets warm when she sleeps. She's shoved her covers down to her knees, and he can see a sliver of her stomach. He shifts closer, softly, silently, untying her already lose robe, just enough to place a kiss on her empty stomach. A sob shoots through him, the vibration touching her skin.

Her right hand comes down from above her shoulder, cupping the back of his head. She scratches him gently with short nails, sending shivers down his spine. He nuzzles her hip bone, scooting himself downward, ready to reconnect. She is nearly naked now, her robe lying uselessly on either side of her body.

Her fingers tighten in his hair, but she makes no move to stop him. He begins to lick and suck at her, his hands sliding over her hips to gently rest on her backside. He works her slowly, giving her a chance to stop him, something she hasn't failed to do every time prior to this morning. The muscles in her legs tense, but she holds him there, not pulling him away, seemingly not denying herself this one small pleasure amidst a world of pain.

She lets out a strangled cry as she comes, goose bumps covering her now chilled skin. He slides up her body, covering her with the navy blue sheet as his head arrives at her pillow. He gathers her up in his arms, neither one willing to break the spell with words.

It is then that he notices her eyes are a little bit brighter, that for once she doesn't seem to be crying, and he thinks _I can do this. I can keep her happy, I can save us._ He tucks a strand of wavy hair behind her ear, and then he begins stroking her jaw line with the rough pad of his thumb.

He wants to tell her how much he loves her, that he's hurting too, that they can try again whenever she's ready, but all the words die out before they ever reach his lips. He moves his hand back into her hair, massaging her scalp as her eyes close sleepily.

His eyes drift south, and he is staring at the slight scar on her neck. He realizes not only how much they have already lost, but how much they _could have lost_ without each other. He makes a silent pact with her, to fight for her, to save her even at the cost of himself.

--

She's been awake for a couple hours now, sitting silently in the kitchen. She ordered a large pizza with the works, Elliot's favorite. She's not really hungry, but she knows he will be, and someone needs to take care of him.

He wakes up when it arrives, and they eat together, the wood of the table serving to distance them once again. She needs him now, to be close to her physically, emotionally. She just doesn't know how to say it out loud. She swallows her last bite of crust, realizing only then she ate all three slices he'd placed on her plate.

Her bare feet seek out his below the table, and she tangles them together at the ankles. His eyes seek her own out, and she can see the tiny crinkles form, as if he is about to smile. _It's been far too long since he's smiled_, she thinks. She loses herself in his slight hopefulness, realizing that it can be this simple. She can make him happy again.

Suddenly she is up and around the table, kissing him fiercely. Her hands are grasping his broad shoulders tightly, mouth pressed against his. She slips her tongue into his mouth, only to be rewarded with his soft moan. They battle back and forth, not for domination, but for each other.

Sooner than either partner wanted, they are panting for breath, her forehead resting against his. She rubs her nose against his, gently, and he pulls her to sit in his lap. She grabs his hand, places it over hers, on top of her now barren stomach.

"I miss him," she says simply.

He kisses her cheek, pulling her into a tight embrace. "Me, too."

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**TBC.**


	2. Chapter 2

**I'm simply overwhelmed by the response to my story. I never expected such amazing reviews! Thank you all.**

**Oz, thanks for the super quick beta!! I hope I can fix the pain someday soon :)**

**And a special thank you goes to my three pre-readers:  
Heather, for all the petting. Purrrrrr.  
Kait, for the constant support of my every whim.  
And Emma, for reminding me who the characters really are.**

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Olivia has been back at work for three days, going through the motions of her life as if nothing has changed. She knows that no one will ever broach the subject with her, but she can feel the words dangling in the air as if they'd just been spoken aloud.

She hates that she's earning sympathy from her coworkers, hates that no one really understands, but she hates it at home just the same.

Elliot has been nothing but kind, and patient, and understanding, but this is exactly what she cannot take. She doesn't want him to treat her like she's fragile, or broken. She wants to be the same Olivia Benson she was 3 months ago.

She wants to go back to where they were before, before she ever felt morning sickness, before she ever contemplated paint chips and baby blankets, before he ever made love to her in the window seat of their new home.

Hell, she'd like to go back to when they didn't own a brownstone, when they were still two single people bickering over which apartment they should call home for the night.

She'd been embarrassed when they'd done the math and figured out which night their child had been conceived on. She thought it should be soft and gentle, something sweet and pure. She'd winced when she realized that he was created as Elliot bent her over, held her up by the waist, and pounded into her.

She'd been embarrassed until he took her right there all over again.

Now she wishes that was all she had to worry about. Now, she'd give anything to be counting the days and weeks, remembering their encounters, planning their future with this little person.

She thinks that maybe tonight is the night she could talk to him. It's not because she's ready, but because she knows he is. She'll have to let him in, or he'll shut her out for good.

She calls Elliot before she loses her nerve, but gets his voicemail. She dials his partner's desk, only to be told he's already left for the day. Her mind immediately jumps to the worst scenarios, that he's leaving her, sleeping with someone else.

Six months ago, this never would have crossed her mind. Six months ago, she was finally beginning to accept that she deserved a good life, that she deserved someone who loved her as much as Elliot does. She'd been on such a high, that she'd actually asked him if he wanted more kids.

She'd actually allowed herself to believe him when he said yes.

She knows now that it was too good to be true, that that moment in the doctor's office was merely a fluke, a moment of perfection that truly belonged to someone else.

She wonders how long it will be before whoever is in charge will remember who Olivia Benson is, and take Elliot away from her as well.

--

Elliot feels her slipping away from him, slowly, steadily. He wants desperately to be let in, to hold her, to have her hold him. They are in this together but they are so completely alone.

He knows she sneaks out at night to sleep fitfully on the couch. By the time the alarm goes off in the morning, she is showered and dressed, sipping coffee in the kitchen. She's barely allowed him to touch her, and she hasn't allowed a single word of comfort.

She might not have moved out, but she's already left him emotionally.

He's resolved to talk to her tonight, no matter what kind of fight she puts up. He took off work early, picked up her favorite meal from the little Italian place down the street. He wants to show her they can't get through this unless they actually try.

He's prepared to do anything tonight. He'll grovel, though he's done nothing wrong, he'll make promises he's not sure he can keep. He will do whatever it takes to bring her heart back home.

--

She doesn't go home when she leaves work. She isn't prepared for whatever is waiting for her there. If he's leaving her, she has nothing to live for. If he wants to try and fix her, she's not sure she's ready to live.

She ends up at a bar filled with sleazy investment bankers, the kind of guy she'd dated when she tried to ignore her feelings for her then-partner. She hasn't been out on her own since their first date, over hot dogs in Central Park.

She's unsure of why she's here, and unsteady on her feet. Nevertheless, she manages her way to the bartender, downing three shots in as many minutes. She feels the tequila warm her insides as the slow loss of inhibition kicks in.

Olivia isn't even aware that she is sliding her wedding band off her finger, placing it inside her purse. She isn't aware that she has attracted the attention of a man nearby. She absently runs her hand through her hair, and only then does she feel the absence of the cool gold band.

She starts to shake as she realizes the intent she'd come here with. Self-sabotage.

--

He doesn't know how they got so far from the happy couple they were just a short time ago. He had always thought that no matter how bad things got, they would rely on each other. He thought he could do that for her, be strong for her, and get her through a difficult time.

He must have been wrong.

She doesn't even tell him she loves him anymore. He's never needed those three words like he does now, now that she won't say them. He didn't say it often before, probably twice a day, three times if she was lucky. She'd been much more giving than him, but that was par for the course. She would write him notes if he worked a case overnight, leave a voicemail just to tell him she missed him, wake him up at four in the morning just to give him a kiss before they'd slip back asleep.

It's been a week since she'd even touched him.

--

It took another shot and 4 sips of a martini before she walks over to a stranger who she's sure hadn't even looked upwards to her eyes. She has lied to him a total of seven times, not even caring if he were to catch her.

He's planted his heavy hand square on her thigh, leaning into her as the smell of his cologne soaking into her skin and hair. He shifts his legs so that they are surrounding hers, and as he leans in, she knows what she has to do.

She isn't worthy of Elliot, and she is here to prove it.

--

He gets called out to a scene almost as soon as he set the table for the dinner he hoped would be a turning point. He left a note telling her to call him as soon as she got home, but he still hasn't heard from her when he gets home at nine.

He doesn't want to call her, to check in on her, because he can't risk a fight before he's gotten her in the front door. He knows she has a tendency to run, but he is giving her the benefit of the doubt. She'll come home to him when she's ready.

By nine-thirty he has packed away the candles he never got the chance to light, and slipping out of the slacks and blue dress shirt she loves so much, opting instead for sweatpants. He starts to head for the bedroom, but decides to call her instead, just to hear her voice. He doesn't care if she's pissed; he just needs to know if she's okay.

He walks into the living room, picks up his cell and makes the call. As the phone rings on his end, he thinks he hears her phone ringing just outside the front door. He hangs up, dialing her number again as he walks down their hallway.

He slams his phone closed, tossing it on a table before flinging the door open. Olivia is there, crumpled in the floor, and her eyes snap up to meet his. He drops to the floor, his heart falling into the pit of his stomach. The first thing he notices is that she's been crying, and the second is that she no longer wears her wedding ring.

"Elliot, I'm so sorry."

--


	3. Chapter 3

**Sorry for the wait!! I had to move for what will be the FINAL time for at least a year, and I had no internet access for a while. I hope you're all still with me!****:D**

Thank you to everyone who reads, and especially to those who review.

Thanks also to Oz for the super-quick beta!! You're amazing.

* * *

They sit on the steps for thirty-two minutes, and neither one says another word. Her hair smells like cigarettes, even though she said she was going to the store. Their phone rings twice as they sit outside, and each time she nearly jumps out of her skin.

She shivers in his embrace, and somehow he convinces her to come inside. He brews hot tea for her as she sits silently on the kitchen counter. He places the warm mug in her hands, but she doesn't even remember to thank him. He notices the empty finger where her wedding band should be, and it sends another knife into his gut.

Despite whatever she is thinking, his only goal is to warm her up. He steps in between her legs and begins to gently rub her thighs. She flinches involuntarily, her brain reminding her that someone _else's_ hand had been there only hours before. He feels her reaction but continues to soothe her. He knows she is ready to cry again, so he decides to try a new tactic.

"Did I ever tell you how I knew for sure I was in love with you?" he asks her.

She looks slightly startled, having not anticipated this line of conversation. She'd been ready for demands, anger, and betrayal, and yet he is here, giving her even more of himself.

"I don't think so, El," she says softly.

"Well, have I got a story for you, then." He smiles. "Do you remember when we went to see the Giants play?"

"We've gone a few times."

"The first time. It was in December. Snowing. We were supposed to take Dickie but he came down with strep."

"Mmm, yeah, I remember," she mumbles.

"It was so cold out, and I know you hate to be cold. I told you we didn't have to go, we could do something else, but you insisted. Said you were all ready for your first NFL game. I knew you were gonna freeze, but you told me I was a bastard for trying to cancel on you." She laughs softly, remembering how much she'd wanted to go to the game.

"You made me go back and put on another layer of clothes."

"'Very unsexy, Stabler,' you said." He nuzzles his nose against hers gently, feeling her relax more with each passing second.

"Well, it was!" She pulls back indignantly. "You made me dress up like an Eskimo for our third date."

"If I remember right, I helped you out of all those layers afterwards, Liv." He smiles a shit-eating grin, his chest puffing up proudly at the memory.

"Yeah, yeah. You still got lucky."

"I did," he says quietly, his eyes moist. They are silent for several moments, both unsure of where to go from here.

"Elliot-"

"I remember we got to the parking lot, couldn't find a spot anywhere," he continues. "We had to walk for ages. You stopped at every tailgate we passed, got us free beer, let a little girl paint "Giants" on your cheek." He touches her cheek softly, as if he could still see the uneven letters on her skin.

"She misspelled it, but she was so excited. Her dad told me she was usually so shy, but she took to you right away." He looks her in the eyes before he says his next sentence. "I always knew you'd be good with kids, no matter the circumstance."

--

_They made their way to their seats slowly, weaving through all the fans crushing around them. He grabs her hand at the beginning of their journey, pleasantly surprised when she tangles their fingers together, rather than pulling away._

_She's already shivering when they make it to their seats, and this gives him a good reason to cuddle her into his body, thinking how this game was a better idea than he realized. He hadn't anticipated this change in their physical relationship to go as smoothly as it is._

_The first quarter is a little dull, both teams testing the strength of the other. She begs him to buy her a hot chocolate, batting her snow-covered eyelashes at him. He pretends to be annoyed for a few minutes, but the second she kisses his neck he gives in._

_He returns twenty minutes later, carrying the promised hot chocolate and what he's sure is the most expensive blanket known to mankind. She accepts both gratefully, a soft chocolatey kiss pressed to the corner of his mouth as a thank you. She covers him with the blanket as well, tucking back into his side. He can tell she is sleepy, and he doesn't mind. He's just grateful to be with her, to spend time with her without the pretense of the badge._

_Towards the end of the second quarter, the Vikings fumble and the Giants recover. Olivia jumps out of her seat, high-fiving the guy two rows down. He looks up at her, too confused to process the situation. She snuggles back under the blanket, only to leap out of her seat as the wide receiver runs in for a touchdown._

_He stands up with the rest of the crowd, and she hugs him tightly to her for a second, as if in this moment there is nothing she wants more than to share the simple joy of team spirit with him._

_It is in this moment he knows he is completely, hopelessly in love with her._

--

"I wanted to tell you that day, but I thought it was too soon." Elliot says to her, his forehead pressed against hers.

"After ten years?" she smirks. "I don't think anything in our relationship could be considered too soon."

"You're probably right." He kisses her on her mouth, the intensity growing before she pulls them apart. She wraps her hand around the base of his neck, stroking the nape of his neck before she begins to talk.

"I fell in love with you that day, too, El. I know it's cliché, but I knew the first time you made love to me." She pulls him to her, kissing him on his jawbone as she realizes how close she is to losing him. "I was so happy that day."

"Me, too."

Suddenly, she crushes him to her body, sobs never-ending as she struggles to breathe. He doesn't know what to say, so he clings to her fiercely, the fear coursing between them.

"Who would've thought we'd end up here?" he asks her after she quiets down. She sniffles, and she knows she owes him complete honesty.

"Elliot, I-"

"Are you leaving me?" he blurts, too nervous to look her in the eyes.

"What? God, no." She clutches him tightly, abruptly remembering she'd never put her wedding band back on. _After. _

He sighs softly, but he knows their situation isn't resolved yet. "Then what's going on?"

"Elliot, I'm not leaving you. I'm not leaving you, but after I tell you what I have to tell you, you might be leaving me."

**

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**

SORRY!! TBC.


	4. Chapter 4

**So this is some kind of fanfic miracle for me! I've never updated this fast. I owe it all to my two biggest supporters: Kait, for the constant encouragement, and Heather, for the honesty and assistance.**

**And as always, thank you Tammy for the beta!! :)**

* * *

Elliot's heart is pounding, and all he can hear is the blood rushing in his head. He thinks that maybe this is what it's like to go insane, because surely Olivia isn't about to say what he's imagining. Of all the things they could do to wreck their marriage, this is the one thing he thought they were incapable of.

His mouth is dry, and he swallows, staring at her eyes, then her lips, realizing she's talking and he cannot hear a word. He blinks, slowly, then looks back at her eyes, his gut wrenching at the worry he sees there.

"What did you say?" he manages.

She freezes, hands in mid-motion, and she looks so stricken. He wants to go to her, to help her, but he is frozen in time, just waiting for the verdict to come in.

"El, tonight…tonight I went to a bar. I went there to find someone to sleep with," she tells him bluntly.

"Oh my god," he whispers. "This can't be happening."

"I went there to find some random guy and completely ruin what we have," she continues. "I went to the bar and I found someone willing. I let him buy me drinks, I let him touch me…I kissed him, Elliot."

_So this is what it feels like when your world collapses._

--

It's been five minutes and he still hasn't said a word, or made any sort of moving beyond blinking. She has the strange urge to tell him everything, just so he knows what kind of person he's married to now. He deserves that much from her.

"His name was Daniel." She sees him flinch, but it's too late now. She has to say this. "He was tall. He said he works on Wall Street, and he was into me. He…he moved to sit next to me, bought me a shot."

Elliot looks sick, but when she moves to touch him, he jerks away. Anger flares in her for a second, before she remembers which person she is in this scenario. She is the failure.

"He kept the drinks coming, and I kept drinking them. Daniel…the guy, he tucked my hair behind my ear, like you do. That's when I knew…I could do this."

"Olivia-" he tries to stop the story, but it is too little, too late.

"I'd taken off my ring before I went in, but he knew I was married. Said I smelled like cologne." She smiles softly, because she loves to smell him on her throughout the day. "He knew, and we were fine with it."

She moves to sit on the couch, hoping he'll follow her lead.

He doesn't.

"Daniel-" she says, because she's hoping for a reaction to his name. "Daniel was nice. He was slow, and easy." _Everything you're not_, she nearly says.

"I told him I worked in advertising, and he made some sort of innuendo. I can't remember what," she says. She looks up at his eyes, and while they are red-rimmed, he isn't crying, not yet. "He put his hand on my thigh, slipped it upwards as he leaned in. He didn't kiss me though."

She spies a flicker of hope in his eyes, as though he'd misunderstood earlier, and she hates to crush him.

"I kissed him."

--

He doesn't want to hear any more, but he is spellbound by the sound of her voice. He knows this is probably the end of their twelve-year relationship, and yet he is fascinated by the demise.

"I kissed him, softly, but he knew what to do from there. We made out…god, I sound like a teenager." At his sudden glare, she backpedals. "I didn't mean…"

"Go on, Liv. What did you do next? What did you and _Daniel_ do next?" he seethes, finally showing the expected rage.

"We left. He got a cab, he touched me…I was gonna go home with him, Elliot. I'm so sorry!" she wails, as if the weight of the situation has only just hit her.

He gives into his heart's urgings, moving to sit next to her, threading his fingers in her hair. He can't forgive her, not now, maybe not ever, but he can't sit here and watch her break.

"But you didn't?" he asks gently.

"No, I didn't, I promise. I couldn't, El, I swear. He called me sweetheart, but it didn't sound like you, and he didn't taste like you and I missed you. After all that, I only wanted you." The words are flowing from her, apologies and confessions all rolled together, breaking into tiny pieces and cutting into their skin.

"Elliot, I love you," she says sincerely, staring straight into his eyes. But it is the sincerity that kills him, that tells him no matter how much she loves him, it's not enough. Not after this. Not anymore.

"I-" he starts, but his mouth is filled with cotton, so he tries again. "I've gotta go. I can't stay here."

And with that, he is gone.

--

Olivia decides she can't take it anymore, this sitting on the couch and pretending she's not waiting for him to walk in the door. She needs something to occupy her time, something that requires focus, or concentration. Only it's ten-thirty at night and it's too late to go running, and she'd cleaned the whole place yesterday in an effort to avoid Elliot.

God, she's so screwed up.

She'll settle for a shower. A hot, steaming shower that will hopefully cleanse her and make her feel like the person she was not so long ago. She scrubs her skin roughly, trying to wash off the night, the past three months. When her olive skin finally gains a pink tone, she drops the washcloth, letting the back of her head hit the wall.

She thinks she should cry right now, now that she is facing the end of her marriage, but there is simply nothing left. The spot where her emotions should be is instead filled up with emptiness, her heart hollow and abandoned.

She knows she has no right to feel hurt, but she does. She knows he is giving up on them, and she can't help but blame him just a little. _He should have seen it coming,_ she rationalizes. _If he knows me at all, he should have stopped me before it got that far._

As soon as those thoughts appear, she shakes her head vigorously, reminding herself she's the fucked up one in the relationship, and she didn't even deserve him to begin with.

A cold breeze interrupts the warmth around her, and she startles, too wrapped up in self-pity to detect an intruder. She smells him, instantly, his masculine scent drifting in the steamy air as he approaches the shower door.

She bites her lip as the door slides open, not sure what to expect. He stares at her, breathing hard, his chest rising and falling as he waits. His eyes drag over her naked body, and goosebumps rise without even a touch. She fights the urge to cover up from his scrutiny, and he nods, imperceptibly.

He steps into the tub, and she notes absently that at least he removed his shoes before stepping into the soaking spray. He is calm, steady, sure, as he approaches her.

"Liv," he breathes, into the space between them. He scoops her up, pressing her back against the tile as she instinctively wraps her legs around his waist. And because he can't ever have enough of her, he utters her name again. "Olivia."

She runs her fingers in his short hair, staring down at him in disbelief. _He can't possibly have come back. I must be dreaming._

"Promise me, Olivia. Tell me I'm the only one," he murmurs against her lips, the denim of his jeans rubbing against her as he leans forward.

"Of course you are," she manages over the lump in her throat. He devours her then, bruising her lips, shoulders, heart. His tongue is hard, deep, punishing and cleansing, and she feels whole for the first time since their loss.

There's teeth involved, and it's harsher and sweeter than it's ever been with him. She wants to cry with joy, but there is no room in the atmosphere for her tears.

He grinds his hips against her, and she cries out at the rough sensation. She tears her lips from his, gasping for air. "Honey? What's going on?" she asks.

"I need you," he states, his irises dark and endless. She knows, because she needs him too, in so many ways. She manages to get her hands in between their bodies, unzipping his jeans and shoving the fabric aside just far enough to release him. He drags his length through her folds, once, twice, and she moans.

"God, I could come just from that."

"Don't." And with that, he pushes himself inside of her, finding his way back home. There's no room for soft touches, neither one caressing the other. Instead they cling, desperately, tightly, each seeking out the same answers with every swivel of the hips.

He picks up speed, slowly at first but soon nearly losing control of himself with the need to come inside her. She pants in his ear, her breath hotter than the now cooling room. His nose is buried in her wet, tangled locks, and yet he doesn't smell her shampoo.

He pulls all the way out, slow, stepping back just enough to see her eyes, before slamming himself all the way into her, both reaching their climax together. Their screams are intelligible, and neither one is sure what they might have yelled.

She buries her head in his neck, the cotton of his white t-shirt sticking to his skin underneath her cheek. She cannot think, nor talk, so she simply feels as he slips out from her body.

"You're still my wife," he pants, minutes later. "I can't forgive you yet, but I'm not letting you go."

* * *

**TBC!!**


	5. Chapter 5

**You guys have truly floored me with all your reviews. It means so much to have wonderful people like y'all supporting my writing. So, THANK YOU.**

**MUAH.**

**P.S. Longest chapter everrrrr. :D**

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She's asleep now, having spent so long protesting her exhaustion that she fell asleep mid-sentence. He'd carried her to bed after she stubbed her toe on their bathtub, her legs still shaky after he set her feet back on the ground. She'd whimpered, just softly, and he'd melted a little inside. She always hated when she stubbed her toes.

He smiles into the darkness, remembering how excited she'd been to have that garden tub. They'd been hunting for a bigger place, him searching Queens while she insisted on Manhattan. Olivia had shown up at his new department, exactly 4 floors below the desks they used to share, with a pastrami on rye and the folder of listings in her hand. _Brooklyn_, she'd said, and he knew she was sold.

--

_"I'm gonna take a bath, El. My first bath in my new giant bathtub. That means one hour, no interruptions." She shook her finger in his face, trying to look menacing. He merely grabs her finger, kissing the tip before he released her hand._

_"One hour."_

_She smiles, putting her ear buds in place as she walks out of the living room. He settles into her sofa, their sofa, turning on Sportscenter. As John Anderson drones on, Elliot starts to drift off, his dreams wrapped around a wet Olivia and the simple lavender scent wafting out from the bathroom. He's so close to waking himself up, if only to live out what his subconscious is suggesting._

_"Shit!" He bolts upright, listening for the sound to repeat itself. "Fuck." He chuckles, recognizing her particular brand of cursing, even while groggy._

_He hears the water splashing, and he can't help but wonder what she's doing in there. Just as he starts to get worried, he hears the water begin to drain, followed by a thump._

_"Owwww!"_ What is going on?

_He rushes into the herbal infused air, seeing his girlfriend bent over, clutching her head and knee. "Elliot," she whines._

_"Babe? What happened?" He grabs a towel as he approaches her, wanting to offer her modesty should she deem it appropriate._

_"I cut my leg when I was shaving, and it was stinging, and I wanted to see how bad it was. I leaned over and got soap in my eyes, so while they were burning I tried to reach for a band-aid and I slipped. I hit my head," she pouts._

_"Aww." He tries to be serious, but he can't wipe the smirk off his face. _This is not the woman the one-six knows._ "C'mere. I got you."_

_He helps her out of the tub, covering her with a fluffy blue towel when she shivers. He sits on the closed toilet- a habit learned after a lifetime with women, the one perk to him having an ex-wife, she'd said- and pulls her into his lap. He reaches the first aid kit, already out on the counter after his earlier search for Advil._

_"Just relax. Doctor Stabler will see you now," he purrs, winking at her._

_"We are not playing that game again tonight, El. I'm injured!" She is completely indignant and adorable, and he thinks now is the time._

_"I love you," he says without pretext. He offers no explanation as he applies the bandage to the soft skin behind her knee, the skill of tending to a thousand childhood scrapes coming in handy. "You're clumsy at home."_

_He chances a glance at her, seeing her eyes wide but unafraid. She swallows, waits a beat. "I am not."_

_"Whatever." He rolls his eyes. "How bad did you hit your head?" He looks for any sign of imminent danger, but she seems alert._

_"No concussion," she murmurs._

_"Good. Let's get you to bed." He sweeps her up in his arms, her protests turning into giggles as he throws her over his shoulder. He drops her onto the bed unceremoniously before he starts to slide in behind her._

_He scoots down, shifting her towel upwards so that it grazes only the tops of her thighs. He kisses the back of her knee, once, twice, three times in total, whispering "all better" before he shifts his body towards the head of the bed._

_He wraps his arms around her waist, snuggling in and breathing in the scent of her still-soaked hair. "Night, Liv."_

_"Goodnight." It is a full five minutes later before he hears it, soft but sure. "I love you, too."_

--

His heart swells up, as he realizes he can smell the same sweet scent on her skin tonight. He hadn't meant to come back here, certainly had no intention of sleeping with her for a long time to come, but here he was. Back in their home, their bed, hoping for a miracle he wasn't sure was coming.

Olivia mutters something intelligible in her sleep, shifting her head onto his chest. So much for distance, he thinks. He grabs her hand, places it over his heart in an unconscious move, wondering at the twists their lives had taken. Maybe distance is the problem.

He'd had every intention of making her worry, of making her feel a tiny inkling of the ache that was now residing inside his chest. He'd stormed out, his plan formulating in the seven steps it took to reach the city sidewalk. He was going to go to a bar, flirt with a woman, maybe women, but he was going to keep his hands off them and he was going to sleep it all off in the cribs.

Turns out, in the end he just wanted to come back home.

--

She is very aware of the two strong arms holding her tightly as she wakes up. For a second, her brain is confused, thinking What did I do?

But her heart is not so easily bewildered. She knows that these are Elliot's arms surrounding her, and she is finally, mercifully where she needs to be.

Her cheeks flush as she realizes she fell asleep without a word spoken on their situation, her situation which she put him in. She wanted to clear the air, to explain herself, to see just how much honesty he could handle. Instead, she's passed out on his chest, nothing resolved.

Her mouth is suddenly dry, and so she extricates her body from his grip, padding quietly downstairs to their kitchen. She gulps a glass of water, and then decides a pot of coffee is in order. She doesn't know when he'll wake up, but she'll be waiting when he does. She decides to get comfortable while she waits.

She settles into her chaise, the navy one that Elliot had teased her about. "_It's girl furniture,"_ he'd whined. _"We don't need it."_ She'd insisted, and he'd groaned with every step he'd carried the relatively lightweight piece of furniture.

That hadn't stopped him from using it to take his regular Sunday naps.

God, he loves those naps. He claims it's necessary for him to recharge before Monday, but that didn't stop her from using all her tricks to wake him as quickly as possible.

She just hopes that this Sunday she'll have the same chance.

_--_

_She comes out of the bedroom, her skin perfumed with Chanel she can't afford, and the scraps of lace Victoria's Secret has the audacity to call a nightie and underwear as her only attire._

_They're trying and she thinks that means she should try as well._

_Her skin is chilled, so she hurries to the spot she knows he'll be occupying. She spies him across the room, sitting upright but softly snoring. He has what appears to be the sports section lying on his chest, but she knows it's masking the comics._

_For a second, she wonders if she should let him rest, but then she shakes her head. For once in her life she is confident someone wants her, every time, and she's not letting that go to waste._

_She drops the unfolded sheets to the floor, their quiet rustling causing him to move slightly. She settles on his lap before he wakes on his own, beginning to pepper his lips and face with quick kisses. She slides her hands underneath his ribbed tank, her nails scratching softly at his abs as she rolls the fabric upwards. She pulls back only long enough to throw the shirt on the floor, before melding her mouth with his._

_She slips her tongue inside his mouth and he moans, his eyes fluttering. Phase one, accomplished. She sits back on his legs, watching his irises change color as he adjusts to the dim evening light. He smiles at her, taking in her appearance._

_"Hi," she says throatily._

_"Hey." He moves his hands to her hips, the lace of her top bunching at the waist. Her hair is wavy and mussed, and she hopes the night ends with tangles she can hardly comb out. The look in his eyes tells him she'll get her wish. "You're gorgeous."_

_She blushes, compliments never truly sitting comfortably with her. "I bet you say that to all the half-naked girls straddling your lap."_

_"Nah, the other girls are easier than you," he smiles._

_"Elliot!" she shrieks, hitting him softly on the chest. "You're gonna have to make that up to me, you know."_

_"I have every intention…" he fades off, leaning forward to kiss her neck. He loses track of his thoughts, loses track of time and he simply feels her existing there with him._

_"Mmm," she says, her throat rumbling against his lips. She grabs a hold of his shoulders, and he slides his fingers into her hair._

_"You know this outfit would look really sexy with a gun and badge," he mutters against her lips._

_"I'm afraid there are no holsters available in yellow lace." She shifts closer to him still, her already moist panties brushing against his abs._

_"Jesus-" he bites off. He doesn't want to rush this. "Well, next time try black."_

_He lifts her teddy over her head, dropping it on top of the now forgotten newspaper. He leans forward, his lips finding her nipple and starting to suck. She sighs, pushing his head into her chest. While she knows this is about making a child together, she never tires of his foreplay._

_He switches to her right side, and beads of sweat break out along her spine. "El," she pants. "Don't stop."_

_He tugs her further into his mouth, his hands gliding southward to cup her from behind. "God bless the inventor of lingerie."_

_She giggles, ready to tease him until he releases her. He pulls back to look her in the eyes, and she is overwhelmed by her luck. This is more than it has been before. This is them creating life, changing their futures forever._

_"I want a little girl, Livia. One with your eyes, your perfect skin…"_

_She can't take it anymore, and so she responds with actions, trying in vain to shove his sweatpants off his hips._

_"Lift up," she hisses. He complies, and soon the cotton becomes just another piece of laundry. He is hard against her stomach, and neither one wants to waste any more time. He reaches for her underwear and she knows his idea before he does._

_"Don't rip them, Stabler. I gotta get more than one time out of them for what I paid," she lectures._

_He grumbles quietly, and she's not sure whether he's agreeing or arguing back. He seems to comply, however, pushing her gently to lie on her back. He maneuvers her hips, sliding the bright yellow fabric down her tan legs sensually._

_He bends over, kissing her stomach with light, brushing touches. The familiar butterflies appear, and she wonders if she'll ever get over the enormity of her connection with this one man._

_She moves to sit up, but he tells her not to. He lifts her hips up into his lap, sliding a pillow underneath her to maintain the angle. She wraps her legs around his waist, enjoying the new position he's guided her into. He climbs onto his knees, and she hangs on tightly._

_He slides into her, and they both sigh in contentment. She smiles up at him, and he looks pleased with himself. "Reading that Kama Sutra, El?"_

_"A smart husband never reveals his secrets," he chuckles, holding still inside of her._

_"Oh, is that what you are now?" She wears a teasing grin, but it is wiped off the second he thrusts forward, hard and purposeful. He starts a steady rhythm, holding her hips firmly as he rocks into her._

_"You're gonna have my baby, Olivia. Soon. You're gonna be carrying my baby inside of you." She whimpers, but she's not sure if it's from the power of his words or the fact that the tip of him has found the perfect spot._

_"Oh," she cries, and he knows he's got her close. Her eyes are tightly shut and it only takes five more pushes before she finds her release. He follows quickly behind her, his seed now inside her._

_They both hold their breath, just for a second, sending out a wish for their dream to become reality_.

--

As her memory fades out, her hands begin to shake. She made the mess that they're in now, and it is solely her responsibility to fix it. She can't claim relationship inexperience, and she can't blame him for not knowing what to say, or do.

She has to fix this with him, has to hope that he'll give her mercy, and she can't wait any longer to start that path.

She rushes up the stairs, into the bedroom, sitting down on his side of the bed. She touches his face, and he stirs.

"Elliot, wake up. We need to talk."

**

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**

TBC. As usual. ;)


	6. Chapter 6

**So, I got into a minor car accident today, and my body is ACHING.**** Plus, the episode TOTALLY left me breathless and amazed. So I was going to be lazy and not post, but then I remembered I'm going to SYTYCD tomorrow (judge all you want, people!!:-P) so I'd have to wait until Thursday. That was just NO BUENO.**

**So, here we go, chapter 6!**

**The usual thanks to my awesome friends and reviewers. :D**

* * *

Elliot's eyes blink slowly open, his mind slowly coming out of a dreamless sleep. There is that usual moment of complete happiness when Olivia is the first thing he sees, until he reads the emotion in her eyes. He is snapped back into reality, the gravity of the situation causing his head to swim.

"Liv?" He tugs on her hand, pulling her back into bed with him. His voice is thick with exhaustion, and he stifles a yawn. "What're you doing up?"

"Couldn't sleep." She complies with his physical demands, and soon she is pressed up against him, her chilled body seeking his sleepy warmth. "Elliot, we really should talk."

"I cant—You can't do this right now. I'm not ready," he pleads, though he's not sure he ever will be. He is fully awake now, his heart racing, his mind playing out every possible scenario for this dreaded conversation.

"I need to know." She sits upright, and he tenses, knowing that physical distance can't ever be good. "I…if you're leaving me, I need to know. I can't—I have to prepare myself."

"Hey, c'mere," he whispers, leaning back against the headboard and pulling her into his lap. She wraps her arms around him, burying her face in his neck. He can feel her shame, her fear, her love in the hot tears that are now dropping onto his skin. "Olivia, just breathe."

She sniffles, snuggling further into him. "How did we get here? This isn't…this isn't us. We love each other, Elliot. We're _happy._"

"Oh, baby." He sighs, just holding her, breathing her in. "I'm not sure what happened."

--

"_Elliot, what is your problem? I've gone undercover a thousand times and it's never been this big of a deal." She turns away from him, facing the bathroom mirror as she puts her earrings on._

"_Liv, I just don't think you should go this time."_

"_It's my job. I have to go." She's annoyed with him for bringing this up less than an hour before she has to leave. They'd talked about it, already, a week ago when Cragen had presented her with the decision. He'd agreed with her, and so she'd accepted, along with Fin._

_He walks over to her, wrapping his arms around her waist. "I have a bad feeling about this."_

_She sighs, catching his eyes in the mirror. "I'll be fine."_

"_But what if you're not? It isn't just you this time." His hand unconsciously fans out over her abdomen. "You're pregnant."_

"_Elliot, I know that." She will not freak out about this, she won't. "I'll have Fin with me, the whole time. And it's not that risky, really. This perp hasn't shown any violent tendencies, and we're mostly there for recon."_

"_It's dangerous, Olivia. You'll be without your gun, and Fin can't be with you every second." He can see she is prepared with another excuse, so he decides to head her off. "I never would have agreed if I'd known you were carrying our baby."_

_She shakes him off, storming into their bedroom. She knows he is following her, so she whips around, nearing hitting him in the process. "You sonofabitch! You know I can take care of myself on the job!"_

"_Would you just shut up for a second? All I'm saying is that I don't have a good feeling about this," he begs. "Please, just stay home with me this weekend. You can blame it on me, say I'm sick, whatever. Just, don't do this."_

"_Elliot, this is my last chance to go undercover, possibly ever." She places her hand on his chest, attempting to calm his nerves. "I can do this. Just this last time?"_

"_I want you to, I do. I know what it means to you." He grabs her hips, holding her in place. "Something doesn't feel right, and I'm asking you to trust me here."_

"_I'm asking you to trust me. You can't just cut me off from my job because I'm pregnant." She walks off to the kitchen, and this time, he doesn't follow._

_It is minutes later, after he has flopped to the bed in exhaustion, that he hears her frantic calling from downstairs._

"_Elliot! Please, come here. Something's wrong!"_

_When he rounds the corner to where she's standing, the first thing he sees are the drops of blood on the floor._

--

"Do you blame me? For losing the baby?" Olivia asks suddenly, out of the blue.

"What? No, absolutely not. I always wondered if you blamed me." Elliot runs his fingers through her hair, lightly rubbing her scalp before every stroke.

"Why would I blame you?" She fights the urge to pull back and look into his eyes, forcing herself to relax with his touches.

"For picking a fight with you that night. I wasn't trying to stress you out about it, I just-" His voice breaks off in a sob, and she can feel him fight for control, to finish the conversation he never wanted in the first place.

"Oh, Elliot. Sweetheart, no. It's not your fault." She can feel his disbelief, and she knows he's been hanging on to the guilt for far too long. "It couldn't possibly be your fault."

"I couldn't wait for our baby. I was so excited, and I wanted to tell everyone. You said it was bad luck, but I told my partner that day, and I-"

"This isn't your fault. Elliot, you were right. It was stupid of me to be going undercover, and I knew it." She can feel him start to settle, but she needs to give him more. "When I went downstairs…I called Cragen. Told him I couldn't do the undercover."

Elliot pulls back, his eyes red-rimmed and wide open. "You did?"

"Yeah. God, was he pissed," she chuckles softly. "I trust you. I couldn't go after that."

He begins kissing her, gently, lips never opening. He moves to kiss her cheek, her chin, her eyelids. He returns to her mouth, and she takes the opportunity to slip her tongue between his lips as he breathes in. She wraps one arm around his neck, pulling him in closer, deeper.

He reaches between them, starting to unbutton the blue dress shirt she'd covered herself with earlier. She sighs into his mouth, refusing to block the emotional with the physical once again.

"Can you ever trust me again?" she asks.

His hands drop from her shirt, coming to rest on her waist. He rests his forehead against hers, taking a short breath.

"Liv, I-" She places her hand over his mouth, silencing him.

"No, don't answer that. I can't expect you to know that, not yet. You shouldn't really. I've let you down so much."

"Olivia. I trust you, with everything." Her face is back on his shoulder, having found her safe place to hide once again, after so much hurt and time.

Her next words are barely audible, mumbled against his bare shoulder. "Could you ever trust me with your baby?"

His heart constricts with emotion, as he considers his next words. He knows his answer, but he has to say it in a way she can believe in. He thinks of the romantic, the serious, but the words don't come out.

Her body tenses as she waits for his response, but she can't take her question back. This could make or break them, and she can't afford not to know.

"Yes," he finally whispers. "Yes, I can."

She stiffens, and crawls out of his lap. Her hands go to work on the two buttons he'd managed to undo, and she searches in her closet for sweat pants. "You don't have to lie to me, Elliot."

He sighs, scrubbing his hand down his face. "Olivia, I'm not lying." He scoots over to the edge of the bed, but he doesn't chase her for fear she might run.

"It's fine. I shouldn't ask that of you. I know you didn't even want another child to begin with." She finally locates her navy yoga pants, stepping one leg into them before he grabs her wrist.

"I've dreamed about you having my baby since the first time I kissed you." He stares her straight in the eye, knowing this time there is no room to back down, no time to lick his wounds. She needs this more than he needs to understand _why._

He guides her back to sit on the edge of the bed, and the pants puddle on the floor, forgotten. He stands in front of her, deciding suddenly that the events of the past night don't matter, _won't_ matter as long as he has her.

She is his and he needs her to remember that.

"I think the first thing I imagined is what your kid would look like. Those big brown eyes, your smile, your nose…I thought about how I'd be the pushover parent from now on, if they had your eyes." He smiles gently, creases appearing next to his eyes. "Then I pictured you in the park, pushing our four-year old on the swing, or watching them go off to their first day of school."

"El…" she whispers.

"You'd be an amazing mother. I want to watch you be a mom, Olivia."

"It's only been two months," she protests, but she is drawn into his fairytale, hopeful for a life which she was sure she'd already lost.

"It doesn't have to be now. We can wait until you're ready, whenever that is. I just, I want this. For us." He grabs her hand, the one now rightfully wearing the wedding band he gave to her, feeling her nerves as she considers his words.

"I don't want to wait."

* * *

**Yes, yes, I will be continuing. They have to ****TRY for the baby, no? ;)**


	7. Chapter 7

**Sorry this took so long to post! I get completely stuck somewhere in the middle of this mess I've made for EO and myself.**

**A big thank you goes out to Heather for getting me...well, unstuck. ;)**

**Also, thanks to Oz for the beta and Kait for the encouraging words. :D**

**Hope it's worth the wait!**

* * *

Olivia knows that so far, they've made it past everything life has thrown at them. Sometimes they were unfailingly, unflinchingly supportive of each other, and other times they would completely fail each other. Before this, she was sure that the worst thing she'd done was leave for Oregon, though it was certainly not for lack of trying.

After their first time together, true to her nature, Olivia had run. Begged exhaustion after work, ignored his calls on the weekend. Just the possibility that she was falling in love with her partner was enough to make her bail.

---------------

_"C'mon, Liv. It's been three weeks since I've seen you outside of work. I miss you." He looks around the squad room, confirming that they're alone. "Just dinner. I'll drop you home afterwards, no pressure."_

_"Elliot, I'm just exhausted. Can't we do it another time?" She is fighting panic that he might see how badly she does want to go to dinner with him, and that she certainly doesn't want him to drop her off afterwards._

_"Benson." He grabs her chin, lifting her downcast face up towards his own. "Dinner. Now. No excuses."_

_"But-" He silences her with an index finger to her lips._

_"Sshhh. Unless you want me to kiss you right here in the bullpen, you should just give in." He releases his hold on her, walking towards the door full speed, clearly assuming she is only a step behind. Instead, she remains frozen in place, fully weak in the knees._

_When he finally turns around, there is humor in his eyes. He doesn't want to call her on it, however, so he decides to let her slide. "Pizza?"_

_--------------_

_She is nearly home now, after three slices of cheese pizza and two beers, Elliot having parked his Jeep and walked her to her front door. All she needs to do is slide her key into the lock, tell him goodnight, and she can be alone again._

_Except, for the first time in her life, she realizes she doesn't have to be lonely._

_"El…Thanks. For tonight. For everything," she says quietly, stepping closer to him._

_"Hey, my motives were purely selfish." He grins before kissing her forehead, then steps backwards. "I missed my partner."_

_The word 'partner' simultaneously fills her with contentment and dread. Contentment in the solidarity of her now eleven-year partnership with this man, and dread that they would forever remain the dynamic duo of the one-six and nothing more._

_She tells herself not to read too much into it, but the dread wins out when he begins walking away._

_"I have nightmares," Olivia blurts out when Elliot has taken four steps towards his parking spot. He turns around to see her, her chest heaving as she attempts to keep the tears at bay. "Every night since Sealview. I haven't gotten a full night's sleep in months, Elliot."_

_It is his chest that now crescendos with every rise and fall, only he is fighting back a different emotion. Anger. "What did he do to you, Liv? What did that bastard do?"_

_"Nothing," she responds quickly, the memories flashing across her mind. Her next words come out in a whisper, not nearly loud enough to be heard over Manhattan traffic but still explicitly clear to her partner. "Everything."_

_"Jesus, Olivia," he murmurs as she begins to cry on the street. He walks over to her enveloping her in his arms. "Let go. You're safe now. Just talk to me."_

_"He got me alone, down in the basement. I thought I was gonna die. I was going to die but I wanted to go down fighting." She takes in a deep breath, hoping to ground herself but instead she feels lightheaded and dizzy. "I ran from him…managed to hide…"_

_"But he found you." It isn't a question, but rather a statement of something he knows to be true._

_In that second she realizes he is living this moment with her, too._

_"He tried to…he almost made me…" Her stomach wrenches as her mind's eye recalls every detail of his anatomy, but she forces herself to grab onto Elliot, to stay anchored to her lifeline even as everything she knows seems to fall away._

_"I know. It's okay, Livia." His hands sift aimlessly through her hair, waiting patiently as a light rain starts to fall._

_"He tried to rape me." His fists clench in her hair, and his instinctual adrenaline kicks in._

_"I'm gonna kill him," Elliot vows. "I'm gonna find him and-"_

_"Elliot." She pulls back, just enough to look him in the eye. "Elliot, you can't be angry now. I can't…that's not what I need."_

_"I have to be angry. This…I have to get mad or else…" Tears spring up in his eyes unbidden, and soon his anger morphs into despair as he realizes this is a make or break moment in their relationship. She has to be able to trust him with her secrets, but that means he needs to be there when she's ready to share. No more brooding, no more storming off to the gym or the nearest locker room to head off his frustrations._

_She needs him to back her play, even when she's lost her way._

_---------------_

Elliot stands in front of her now, over a year later, as she perches on the edge of their king-size bed, and just like that night on the street she finds her courage by looking at him, breathing him in, simply existing with him.

She pulls him between her legs, tugging on the waistband of his shorts as he willingly steps forward. Her hands grasp his hips so tightly she knows she'll find marks tomorrow, but he doesn't seem to notice.

"Elliot, I screwed up."

"Liv, you don't need—"

"Shut up and let me apologize for once," she states, a wry smile crossing her face. "I know you love me, and that your first instinct is to protect me, but you can't keep giving me free passes anymore. Every fight we had, every time I ran, you were so forgiving, so accepting of it, and I'm so grateful for that, I am."

His eyes are downcast, but she knows he is fighting tears. She's never needed to see his face to know what he is feeling inside. She cups his chin with her hand as she speaks her next words.

"I'm ready to be a grown up in this relationship now, too. I was wrong, not just tonight, but with this whole situation. I had no right to shut you out, no right to ignore your pain, and I'm ready to accept responsibility for that."

"You know I'd forgive you for anything, Olivia."

"Elliot, you have to be mad at me before you can forgive me." Her words are gentle yet firm, and he knows that possibly for the first time in their eleven years together, she is laying all her cards out on the table. "We're married. You don't need to protect me from you. I want you, the good and the bad."

Panic rises in his chest, because as she finds her center he is slowly losing his. "Have I been unfair to you? Have I…made you feel unequal?"

"No, no, that's not what I meant," she rushes. She cannot lose him to the fear now, not when she is ridding herself of the last vestiges of her own apprehension. "Honey, I wasn't ready for this before. You were perfect, Elliot. I'm just telling you, I'm really ready now. To be your wife."

She kisses him then, long and sweet, assuming her half of their marriage the way she'd never hesitated to do in their partnership. She slides her mouth to his chin, his neck, cupping his head as he moans softly. He lets her take charge as she directs their motions, returning her lips to his. She gives him a soft peck on the lips before nuzzling her nose against his.

"I suppose this means you'll be wanting another diamond, now," he whispers, a twinkle in his eyes.

"You bet your ass, Stabler," she quips back.

"I love you, Stabler," he mumbles against her lips as he pushes her back onto their bed. He resumes his earlier work on her button-down as she wastes no time ridding him of his cotton shorts.

His mouth finds its way to her nipple as soon as her shirt is out of the way, and she whimpers quietly. He smiles up at her, her eyes barely open. "I'll take that as 'I love you, too.'"

He moves to her other breast, circling her taut nipple with his tongue, never latching on even as she tries to control his movements. He slides his hands down her arms, threading his fingers through hers. He pins her wrists above her head, dragging his open mouth in the valley between her breasts.

He continues his journey down her stomach, stopping just above her belly button.

"Elliot, don't, you know I'm—ahh!" she shrieks as he swirls his tongue in and around her navel. "Sensitive. Bastard."

He lets go of one hand, reaching inside her panties to rub her clit with his thumb. She takes the opportunity to wrap her hand behind his head, pulling his mouth to hers. His kiss steals her breath away, and for this she is grateful. When she breathes, she thinks, and right now that is the last thing she wants to do.

When she thinks, she remembers _his_ hands roaming her body while Elliot waited at home. When she thinks, she remembers the sound of the door slamming as Elliot left her last night. When she thinks, she remembers the book of baby names she has stashed in the drawer of her desk.

She bites his lip, thrusting her hips upward, spurring him on in order to exorcise the last of her demons. This is where she wants to be, where she should be, and she isn't going to waste any more time.

"Elliot, honey, take them off," she pants.

"Patience, detective," he mumbles against her soft, tanned skin. His actions contradict his words, however, as he begins to slide the lace down her legs, releasing her other hand. "We're just getting to the good part."

"You _are _the good part." She grabs his lower back and pushes the tip of him inside of her, breathing a sigh of relief at the familiar sensation.

"Bossy, bossy," he chastises, sliding slowly further inside of her. She lifts a leg up and around his hip, and he reaches back to grab her thigh. "You're so right for me, Olivia."

"Mmm," she murmurs in agreement, pulling his hips back up to her body. She closes her eyes to shut out the world and focus solely on his motions. "Don't stop."

"We're gonna get it right this time, you know that?" he questions her as his thrusts deepen. "I promise you."

Her eyes fly open, the peace momentarily broken. "Elliot," she whispers, shaking. "Don't promise something you can't keep. You don't know."

"It's gonna work out this time. I can promise that." He kisses both her eyelids gently, soothing her even as his hips pick up speed. She relaxes, slowly, slightly. "We're going to have a perfect little baby. Ten fingers, ten tiny toes. "

He reaches down to stroke her clit once more, and she comes, unexpectedly. He follows shortly after, collapsing just to the side of her heated body.

She reaches up to touch his temple, her hand quivering with the small exertion on her exhausted body. "You promise?" she asks in a small voice.

He wraps an arm around her, snuggling her tightly into his body as they lay sideways on their mattress. "Yeah, Liv. I do."

* * *

**To be continued!!**


	8. Chapter 8

**This chapter is brought to you by the wonder that is Missy Higgins' music. If you've never listened, give her a try! :)**

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Elliot jerks awake as he hears his front door slam closed. He hasn't seen his wife in days, but he can tell this won't be quite the reunion he'd hoped for. He expects to hear her head into the bathroom, brush her teeth, possibly even take a shower, so he is surprised when he sees her shadow in their bedroom doorway.

"Liv? You alright?" he asks, sitting up.

She shakes her head slowly as she walks towards him. He pulls back the covers on her side of the bed and she climbs in, still dressed in her work clothes. He bends down to take her boots off, dropping them on the floor before he pulls the comforter up to her chin. He snuggles up to her side, planting a gentle kiss on the corner of her mouth.

"Wanna talk about it?"

"Not…not yet, Elliot," she says as her voice wavers, her eyes full of unshed tears.

"Mmkay," he mumbles against her skin. "You need to get ready for bed?"

"Can we just lay here, for a while? Please?" She turns toward him, wrapping her arm around his waist.

"Of course, baby." He traps her leg between his and rests his head on her pillow. "You know we're going to fall asleep in five minutes."

She smiles softly at him, but it doesn't reach her eyes. "I hope so."

-------------------

_He's finally managed to get her upstairs and into her apartment, away from the small crowd who had gathered to watch a woman have a breakdown on the sidewalk. He never thought he'd be part of a spectacle on the sidewalk, but damn if there weren't ten people with nothing to do on a Friday night but watch his partner cry._

_In the twenty-four minutes they've been inside, he's made her hot chocolate, watched her sip it slowly down to the bottom, and never uttered a word. She is resting her head against his shoulder, though, and that can't be a bad sign. _

"_I'm tired, El," she whispers._

_He shifts slightly, reaching his right hand across his lap to find her hand. "Well, it is pretty late."_

"_No, it's not that. I'm just…so, so tired. Of everything." He tenses, his adrenaline coursing should he need to fight to keep her here with him. "Not like that. I just, I need a break."_

_Elliot breathes out deeply, his heart still racing as he fights to calm down. "Well, it's the weekend and we're not on call, so you have some time."_

"_Mmm," she mumbles, and he's not sure if she's agreeing or disagreeing with him. "Do you have plans this weekend? I mean, can you…"_

_He hates how small her voice sounds, as if she has no right to ask that her partner-turned-nearly-boyfriend simply keep her company when they're not at work. He knows that with Olivia Benson, nothing is ever an idle question. He realizes that for as much as he thought he understood her pain, her fear, it must be much worse than he'd pictured if she was willing to request companionship, even for a few hours._

_The Benson he knows, the Benson who's had his back for over a decade, she is independent, and proud of the fact that she can withstand everything alone. But this is Olivia, and he can see she's finally letting him in._

"_Nope, no plans."_

"_K." She nods her head against his shoulder, and the silence resumes. He can feel her slowly relax into his body, and he knows she is falling asleep. He wants to take her to her bed, let her stretch out, but he doesn't want to wake her._

_He glances around at her apartment, taking it all in unlike the last time he was here. The last time he was here, he was so focused on undressing her, caressing her, that there was no time for the scenic tour._

_His eyes drift shut as he pictures their night together, the connection they'd shared before he had to leave for home. The images play out in his mind as he floats in that area between wakefulness and dreams, until he isn't sure if this is a memory or happening all over again._

_But it's when the moans he was expecting to hear come out as pleas and screams, that he realizes this is weeks later._

_She is flushed, crying, and all at once he is speechless. He'd prepared himself for her to be in physical danger, to rush to her defense behind the guise of a cop, his badge and his gun. But he doesn't know how to ward off this emotional torment, to shake her out of the hold one sick man holds on her heart._

_It is long, torturous moments before the glaze in her eyes disappears, before she leaves that prison basement and returns to her living room. He thinks she is shaking, but when he looks down at their joined hands he realizes it's coming from his own body._

"_He didn't…he didn't even rape me, Elliot. So why am I so scared?" Her eyes are begging, pleading for an answer he knows he'll never be able to give, and the thought that his fearless partner has been hiding this for months on end just breaks his heart in two._

"_Liv, you were violated. It doesn't really matter how, just the fact that…he took things from you." He is worried about his response, concerned that she'll think he's preaching, but instead she softens._

"_You get it," she whispers, not quite surprised. She stands up, holding her hand out for him to grab. "Bed?"_

-------------------

_They are laying side by side now, their breathing in sync. He knows she wants to talk, but she has to be the one to make the first move. He refrains from touching her, even though his palms are itching to caress her bare arms and his lips are tingling with the need to kiss her neck._

_He forces himself to be content with just being near her for now, something he's used to after years of dancing around his feelings for her. He hears a ragged breath echo in the room around him, but when he turns his head to look at her, she is the perfect picture of composure. He opens his mouth to speak, but she beats him to the punch._

"_When I…dream about it…Fin never comes."_

_And there it is. The reason she hasn't slept a full eight hours since her undercover gig. They both know how the end of her nightmare plays out now, night after night._

"_The worst part…the worst part is when I dream that he kills me," she stutters out, clearly upset. "And, and, no one looks for me, for days, until you find me. My body."_

_He wants to talk to her, to soothe her, but he is afraid one word from him would silence her forever. One word from him could condemn her to a lifetime of pretending, and so he watches her unravel in the safety of her bedroom._

"_It's days later, and yet you can still see all the-the bruises. And when you find me, you…" She looks to him then, but what she wants from him, he isn't sure. "You forget about the crime scene, the investigation, everything. You just hold me."_

_His turns on his side then, his arms wrapping around her more out of sheer want than her previous words. "It means more to me, that you hold me, than that you ever find my killer. I just..."_

_Elliot swallows once, twice, as he struggles to control the urge to soothe her, to promise her that everything's okay, that she's safe now with him. Instead, he waits._

"_I just wanted you to know, that even in my dreams, you always do the right thing."_

_His heart clenches at her words, and he knows he can no longer remain silent. He didn't do the right thing by her for years, and yet she still has total faith in him. He knows he has to confess to her his reasons for staying, and his reasons for leaving, if they are to ever stand a chance together._

"_Liv, I haven't always done the right thing. Not for a long time." He expects to feel her tense, to brace herself for bad news, but her breathing seems to even out. "I need to apologize to you. For the way I behaved these past few years."_

_He is anticipating some form of protest, or denial, though nothing like that happens. Instead she sighs, settling in more closely to him, her head on his chest. "I was wrong, Olivia. I was wrong for staying with Kathy, for going back to her. Staying with her…It was a safe decision. Because with her, I knew my heart would never be breaking like it is right now."_

-------------------

"Have you eaten anything today?" he asks, his fingers sifting through her hair.

"Um, I think, half a bag of pretzels and maybe…six M&Ms. I'm really not hungry, El," she replies, cocooning herself in his warmth. He feels the rough denim of her jeans against his naked thigh as she parts his legs, trying to hide from the world.

"You've gotta eat, Olivia. You could be- I mean, you might-"

"I got my period yesterday," she interrupts.

"Oh." He pauses, searching for a response.

"Just, don't, okay?" She sighs, her body suddenly heavier than it's ever felt.

"You still need to eat, babe. I'll fix you something." Elliot makes a move to get up and head for the kitchen, but he can't seem to extricate himself from his wife's body.

"I can't talk about it tonight. I want to, but I just can't." She looks at him with apologetic eyes, and he can't help but want to sign her resignation for her, effective immediately. Some days, he just can't bear to see her hurting from the job she was born to do.

"Alright. Let's get you cleaned up, and I'll fix you a grilled cheese while you're in the tub." He tugs her hand, pulling her slowly out of bed behind him. He leads her into the bathroom and watches her carefully as she sits on the covered toilet. "Bath, or shower?"

"Bath, please." He nods his assent, starting the water and watching as the water begins to rise. He adds her jasmine-scented bubble bath, and then turns his full attention towards her. He gets down on his knees in front of her, placing a firm kiss on her lips, one she returns with a sense of urgency. He allows her to cup his neck, to shove her tongue in his mouth, desperately searching, seeking.

He feels her pull back, hesitantly, and so he kisses a trail along her jaw line to her earlobe. "I love you," he whispers.

When he looks into her eyes, he can see they are a shade lighter than they've been all night, and he knows she'll be okay. He reaches for the hem of her sweater, pulling it over her head and tossing in into the far corner of the room. As he reaches around her back to unclasp her lacy black bra, he places a kiss directly her heart.

Goosebumps cover her flesh despite the steam now rising from their bathtub.

"Stand up, Liv," he commands gently. She complies with his request, and he reaches up to unbutton her jeans. "I took tomorrow off. We'll spend the whole day in our sweats, okay?"

She reaches down to cup his chin, looking him in the eye. The barest hint of a smile graces her features, and he can't help but smile back. "That sounds perfect, Elliot."

He unzips her pants, pulling them down her legs so she now stands clad only in her underwear. He nuzzles his nose against her bellybutton, eliciting a small gasp as he slides the boy shorts around her ankles. She steps out of her bottoms one leg at a time, bracing herself on his shoulders.

"Get in. I'll go make your sandwich." He turns to leave the room, hearing the small splash as she steps into the water.

"She was 4 months old," she confesses. As all the pieces of the puzzle fit together, he decides dinner can wait. He takes her previous seat as she settles down into the water, and reaches for her hand through all the bubbles.

"Tell me more."

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**TBC**


End file.
